


Asriel's Hoodie

by WolffyLuna



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, Gen, Gift Giving, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Spoilers - Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolffyLuna/pseuds/WolffyLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's winter, and Asriel's ears keep getting cold, because he can't choose between having his hood up or down. Chara knits up and solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asriel's Hoodie

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic, not only is every one alive (huzzah!), but Chara, Frisk and Asriel have grown up. They've moved out of Toriel's house on the surface, but they still live together as roommates/siblings. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story!

Chara, Frisk and Asriel strolled around the local lake, and tendrils of fog crept over the concrete banks towards them. The winter sun lazed over the horizon, making everything bright and white.

Chara shoved their hands into their jacket pockets and tried to curl their head into the synthetic fluff of their collar, like a turtle. Walks were good, but this early, in winter? Seriously?

Frisk held out their arm, and brought the group to a halt. “Look!” They whispered, while they pointed with their other hand.

A little family of green grass parrots grazed, and kept a close eye on the trio.

Frisk grinned like Pyrope, though with much blunter teeth.

This was the only real advantage of early winter walks. If you got out before the super keen joggers and dog walkers, the birds would still be on the ground in all their noisy, flocky glory. Then Frisk would spend the whole walk beaming at them, and looking ridiculous. Chara didn’t care much for birds, but Frisk? Well, Frisk was worth freezing their fingers off.

Asriel flipped his hood of his jumper down.

Chara looked over at Asriel. They can’t have seen right, it was too cold to take your hood off--

Nope. Asriel definitely flipped his hood down. It was below zero c, and he’d flipped his hood down. Chara boggled. They shoulder bumped him, while still trying to stay curled up in their jacket. “Too hot for you, huh?”

“No--” Asriel rubbed the back of his neck, fluffing up the fur. “I just like having my hood flipped down. I like the weight on my back, I guess? I mean, as much as I like my ears being warm--” He shrugged. “It’s just a thing.”

 _And I hadn’t noticed this before? I must be getting slack in old age ~~and safety.~~ _ “You’ll get chillblains.”

The grass parrots, tired of being so close to big scary things, flew off.

The trio started walking again.

“I know,” said Asriel.

“On the inside of your ears,” Chara continued.

Asriel sighed. “I know.”

Frisk chimed in, with a cheeky grin. “You’ll get frostbite.”

Asriel didn’t bother replying, but turned and raised an eyebrow at Frisk.

“You’ll lose half of each ear,” said Chara. “Toriel will be horrified.”

Asriel held a paw to his forehead, like a hammy actress about to faint. “I know. If only I could have my hood up and down! But alas, I must live with chunks missing from my ears, and a horrified mother.”

Frisk giggled first. Then Chara. Asriel tried to hold it in, but he broke characters and giggled too. Then they all cackled while they walked, scaring off a flock of crested pigeons.

***

Asriel walked out of the atrium brandishing a large cardboard box. “Guess who’s got mail!” He set it down on the dining table, and sliced through the tape with a claw.

Frisk turned round on the couch to face him. “Who?”

Chara finished their row and put their knitting loom down. They walked over to the table, Frisk following them.

Asriel cocked his head, to read the label sideways. “All of us, looks like.” He squinted and leaned closer to the box. “They had trouble fitting all of our names in. The writing’s kinda squished.”

Chara stood on their tippy-toes, trying to see over Asriel’s shoulder. “Who’s it from?”

“T Dreemurr.” Asriel stood up straight and paused to think. “Who would that be-- Hey, it’s from Mum!” He flipped the cardboard flaps open.

Chara got off their toes, and leaned round Asriel’s left to get a look inside the package.

Frisk leaned round the opposite way.

The box contained another, smaller cardboard box inside.

Frisk took it out. “It’s from Asgore.” They sat down on a chair, and picked the tape off.

Underneath the other box was a neat stack of loose papers and spiral bound books.

Chara took the top sheet, and held it up. It was a picture of a pie, with borage round the edges of the braided crust, done in coloured pencil. Chara flipped it over to look at the back. “Look, Frisk!”

Frisk turned their head.

Chara held it up. “It’s one of yours. I can tell because it’s got a date on the back.”

Asriel rifled through the papers. “It’s also got their name on it.”

Chara smiled. “Shush, you.”

Frisk held up a picture from the Asgore box. “This yours, Chara?”

Chara took it out of Frisk’s hands, to get a closer look. It looked like a stick figure kid throwing some flowers in the air? It was hard to tell, with the poor drawing skill and the, uh, _lurid_ colours. Everything was bright and streaking and clashing. “Probably? If it’s bad and has flowers, I most likely did it.”

Asriel leaned over to look at the drawing. “I remember when we did this! Dad had found some rainbow pencils, the ones with multiple colours in each lead, in Waterfall, and brought them to us. Man, we had so much fun with those! Well, at least I did.”

Frisk made a noise that sounded like ‘I can tell.’ The passed a drawing over to Asriel.

Asriel took it, and boggled. “Oh my...”

It was the most rainbow thing Chara had seen, even more than their flower drawing. It was even more rainbow than they’d remembered it being, and they remembered it being _pretty_ rainbow. The sky was teal-navy-royal blue streaks, with big red-orange-green stars scattered around. Right in the centre a white figure wearing blue-purple-pink robes brandished two brown-magenta-black swords. Underneath, each letter drawn with a different multicoloured pencil in chunky bubble writing, was ‘THE ABSOLUTE GOD OF HYPERDEATH.’ They raised their eyebrows, and turned to Asriel.

Asriel looked like someone had hit him with a frying pan made of stars and rainbows.

 

A moment of awkward silence descended on them, as Chara and Frisk remembered the time they literally fought Asriel’s Marty Stu (which was less rainbow than the drawing, somehow), and Asriel remembered fighting his siblings as his Marty Stu.

Asriel bit his top lip. 

Chara stared at the picture, and noticed something. “What are those?” They pointed at the figure’s neck, making little circles with their index finger.

The tension left the room as quickly as it entered.

Asriel peered at the drawing. “Two hoods, I think? You know how kids are. ‘One hood is cool, but I bet two hoods would be the COOLEREST!”

Frisk giggled.

Chara paused. _Two hoods..._ It’d be awkward to sew up, and knitting for Asriel was difficult, due to his size, but maybe... At least it’d stop him from complaining about chilblains in his ears.

***

Chara skulked towards the craft shop, hunched over. Partially to keep their neck in the fluff, and partially -- Well, old habits die hard, especially around humans. They wanted to curl up into a little ball, but they couldn’t roll to the shop. Hunched, watchful walk would have to do.

Too many humans came out to shop on Saturdays. Too many humans came out of their houses on any day. And they included themselves in that number.

At least a monster family owned the craftshop, and mostly monsters shopped their. Old habits died hard for monsters too, and most grew up having to patch everything they wore, or make their clothes out of scraps from the dump. Many still mended and made, and many loved the choice at an actual store.

Chara did too. They opened the store door, and little bell chiming above as they walked in. _Clean_ wool filled the racks to overflowing, and filled the store with the scent of lanolin. _Working_ sewing machines stood in boxed piles in one corner. _Unbroken_ pens, pencils, hooks and needles sat on hooks on another wall. Paper and sketchbooks, in all sorts of colours, and that no one had drawn on yet, stacked on racks in a corner. The store was a cornucopia of things in good working order. _Way_ better than you’d find in a garbage dump.

The shopkeeper waved at them from behind the counter. “Hello Chara!

Chara stood straighter as soons as they heard her voice, with its underground accent. “Hello, Basilbun.”

“We just got a new patternbook in stock. I thought it might be the sort of thing you’d like.” She rummaged behind the counter, then held up a book.

Chara walked over to read the title. _The Loom Knitter’s Guide to Dog Sweaters._ It was tempting... Chara held up a hand. “I’d better hold off. At least until I have a dog to knit for.”

Basilbun nodded, and put the book back. “Well, you know your way round here, so I’ll let you get to it. But if you have any trouble, just give me a yell, ‘kay?”

Char gave a mock salute. “Will do.” They grabbed a plastic basket and walked over to the wool section. They ran their fingers along the racks as they walked up and down, looking. _Green? No. Teal? No. Pastel pink? No. Purple--_ They halted in front of that rack. It was the _exact_ shade. Toriel purple. Absolute God of Hyperdeath purple. They check the price. Not too bad. They flung it into the basket in armfuls. Anything made to fit Asriel needed a lot of wool.

Satisfied with the teetering pile in their basket, Chara looked at the wrapping paper. _The pink and gold star might work. The rainbow one would do too._ They eeny-meeny-miney-moed at the two for a bit, then stopped. It _had_ to be the rainbow one. The wrapping had to compete with the drawing in luridness. (Not win, of course. Just compete. Nothing could win against that drawing in luridness.)

Chara walked over to the counter, but stopped as something caught their eye. A pack of multi coloured pencils, each lead containing three different colours, in a range of colours and combos. Cheap as chips too. Perfect stocking filler. Well, jumper filler. They put in their basket, wedged between two balls of wool.

They stopped at the counter, and put the wool on it in great armfuls.

Basilbun swept the wool through the barcode scanner. “That’s... a lot of wool.”

“I’m making a jumper for Asriel, so--”

Basilbun paused mid sweep. “Are you sure it’s enough then?”

Chara shrugged. “If I run out, I can get more from here.”

“But, it is wool--”

“--And wool gets discontinued--” Chara finished.

They both stopped, and stared at each other for a second.

“I should get more,” Chara said.

“Good idea.”

Chara returned with another basketful of purple wool wool.

When all was said and done, Chara walked out with five bags of wool (plus pencils and wrapping paper) and a spring in their step. As much as spring in their step as they could have while running a gauntlet of humans, at least.

Asriel was going to love this gift.

*** ***

Asriel washed the menthol-y ointment off his hands, turned the tap off, and shook them dry. His ears tingled from the gunk, and his ears smelled medicated and weird. He scrunched his nose up. Darn chillblains. He patted his hands down with a tea towel to get the last of the dampness off, and poked his head through the kitchen door.

A Mettaton cooking show played on the TV. He seemed to be making some sort of meringue? It was hard to tell with all the dramatic posing going on, and with the egg white all over the counter and walls of the kitchen set.

Frisk watched, rapt, while listing down steps in a notebook.

Chara didn’t seem to be paying much attention. They sat cross legged on the couch, knitting something purple on their loom.

Asriel stepped into the living room, and stopped behind and to the right of Chara.

The hook made a rhythmic _tap-tap-tap_ as Chara pulled the stitches over.

Asriel cocked his head, trying to work out what the purple thing was. He couldn’t quite work it out. There was definitely some shaping involved, with the bottom of the fabric in two tabs that met together in the middle, but the loom distorted the most recent stitches, obscuring the rest of the shape. It didn’t help that Chara tended to knit things inside out and upside down anyway. “What’cha making?”

Chara paused to loop some wool over the pegs. They leaned their head back to face him. “You’ll see.” They smiled a little bit, and started knitting again.

***

The pieces of purple fabric grew and grew ( _That thing is huge,_ Asriel thought), got cast off, and were placed in the project bag at an alarming rate. The poor little bag seemed fit to burst, and bits of knitting poked out the top, where Chara couldn’t quite stuff it all in.

Asriel could never quite tell what the pieces were, even once they were finished. Rectangles with pieces missing, funny shaped circle, and at least two massive tubes? Asriel tried to fit them together, like a jigsaw puzzle, in his head. No combination made sense to him.

He sat next to Chara, with the TV playing in the background. Frisk took notes next to them during the cooking shows. He watched Chara, knitting away happily, and smile. Chara just looked so relaxed, and well-- Every loose muscle was a treasure, with them. And it was soothing a lean against the couch back, gentle _tap-tap-tap_ next to him, and glance over to see how the fabric had grown.

***

One night, the project bag disappeared.

Chara sat on the lounge, still cross legged, and just watched the television? They didn’t knit anything, just sat there. It was weird seeing Chara without the loom in their hands.

 _They must have finished their project, I guess,_ thought Asriel.He slid on to the couch. “Is it done?”

“I just need to sew it. I can’t do that while watching Mettaton cheesecake.”

“Make cheesecake?” Frisk asked.

“No, _be cheesecake._ ” Chara did a Mettaton impression. “Oh no! I dropped the egg whisk! I better bend down and pick it up.”

Frisk giggled.

Asriel sighed. “And you never told me what you were knitting,” he joked.

“You’ll see it when it’s done.”

“Promise? ”

Chara grinned, canines going over the bottom lip. “ _Promise._ ”

***

Asriel walked inside, and kicked his shoes off into the shoe pile next to the door. He turned round, and walked into the combined dining-living room thing.

Chara’s head poked over the top of the couch, and then darted back under.

The couch giggled.

Asriel raised an eyebrow. “Hey, Chara.” He sidled in, keeping a close eye on the couch. Chara had to be fake hiding for some reason. (They couldn’t actually be hiding, he wouldn’t have seen them if they were really trying.) Something was happening.

A package sat on the dining table. A rainbow, stripey package.

Asriel picked it up. The tag on it had “To The Absolute God of Hyperdeath” on it, written in multicoloured pencils. This was a joke. This was definitely Chara’s sense of humour. Asriel turned it over, and peeled off the tape cautiously. He reached in and pulled out an open, but complete, pack of multicolour pencils, each lead having three different colours. Must have been what Chara used to write the tag.

He reached in again. A folded piece of purple knitting, like what Chara was knitting. Probably _was_ what Chara was knitting. He unfolded it.

It was a hoodie, made to fit him. He held it by the arms, inspecting it. He turned it around. One hood, and then-- “Two hoods!” He put the new hoodie back on the table, and ripped the one he was wearing off, avoiding getting it caught on his horns. He pulled new one over his head, flipped the first hood up, and kept the second one down as a comforting weight on the back of his neck.

Chara rested their chin on their hands, elbows on the back of the couch. “Like it?”

Asriel did a little twirl, grinning. “Definitely.”

“Good, because I spent t0o long making it to have you not like it.”

Asriel came to a stop, before he got dizzy. “Thank you.”

Chara waved it off, and turned round to face the television. “No worries. I didn’t want to have to explain to mother why you were missing a chunk of ear.”

Asriel grinned wider, and slid on to the couch next to them. “Still, thanks.”


End file.
